


Stucky Poetry

by frobster



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22603144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frobster/pseuds/frobster
Summary: Poems for my two favorite sad gay boys I've written over the years
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Sergeant

Was it harder to die,  
Or to be reborn?

To fight tooth and nail  
For your stubborn life,  
Exhausted and desperate  
Until you were forced to give up?

To remember and remake,  
To mold yourself from clay  
And pray to a god you no longer believed in  
As you begged for another chance?

Was it harder to finally give in,  
Or to drag yourself back into the light?


	2. Captain

How does it feel to be the survivor?  
You are alive and burdened  
With the knowledge of your past,  
Your mistakes,  
Your regrets.  
Cling to your victories and  
Days in the sun.  
Remember those who stood  
With you through the long nights.  
Do not remember how they died.  
Do not think about how lonely you are.  
Do not wish to join them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr @frobster !


	3. Spring

After the last failed mission,  
Life was perpetually  
A spring day.

The seasons changed,  
Leaves fell and the sun rose,  
But I was caught in spring.

In the wake of the catastrophe  
That set in motion this spring,  
I started to come back to life.

From the frozen recesses  
Of my shadowed mind  
Came scenes from another life.

The man with the golden hair,  
Laughing and grinning at me,  
Happy and small and okay.

The man with no hair,  
Hacking away at who I used to be,  
Frowning and angry and terrifying.

A shield that was beyond tacky,  
Shining and humming with power,  
That protected the golden man.

An arm that was cold and heavy,  
Fine-tuned to kill and destroy,  
Something I can't get rid of.

From the abused mush of my mind  
Came new life in its stead,  
Life I didn't necessarily want.

Spring used to be my least favorite;  
It made the golden man sick  
And it always rained.

Now my mind is a garden,  
Emerging from an eternal winter  
To sprout uncertainly.

Spring is fickle,  
And some of these memories  
Are ones I'd rather keep buried.

But death and pain  
Sprout and flower  
Like vibrant poppies.

And love and warmth  
Slowly stretch skyward  
Like gentle vines.

I can only hope at this point  
That the vines somehow manage  
To choke out the flowers.

I want to remember the golden man  
And all he used to be to me  
And all he continued to be today.

But, more often than not,  
It is the fear and pain that returns  
And plagues even my waking hours.

I am paralyzed with confusion,  
Pinned down by my guilt,  
And lost in this sea of broken memories.

Is the golden man real?  
I touched him, he must be.  
What is his name?

They tried to burn it out of me,  
To freeze my memories out,  
But he was always there.

What was his name?  
What is my name?  
Why can't I remember anything good?

He was so good,  
Too good,  
And I am a monster now.

Spring is a monstrous season,  
When insects return  
And feast on the new green life.

I am a monstrous person,  
Drowning in the past,  
Wishing the golden man could help.

I remember him,  
and I remember us,  
But God do I remember death.

He isn't dead,  
Thank the Lord above,  
But I killed too many people.

My garden is planted  
On the corpses of the innocent  
And sprouts oh so beautifully.

If I did not kill these people,  
I would not have lived again  
With the golden man.

I don't want to remember anymore,  
I want to turn it all off  
And go back to sleep.

For I would rather forget  
The beautiful golden man  
Than remember all this pain.

For these memories and dreams,  
These nightmares that shadow the sun,  
They push me further away from him.

For spring is the undead season  
And when it comes to people,  
So am I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr @frobster !


	4. Consider

When you fell in love with him,  
I don't think you considered  
Your future.

I don't think you considered  
The distance you'd have to act out  
And the relationships you'd have to fake.

I don't think you considered  
How long the love would last  
And how badly it would hurt.

I don't think you considered  
Ever losing him to distance  
Or death.

I don't think you considered  
That maybe he could love you too,  
And maybe you could be together some day.

I don't think you considered  
How selfless it was  
And how selfish it could be.

I don't think you considered  
Losing him  
And consequently losing yourself.

I don't think you considered  
Even the slightest possibility  
Of a future together.

I don't think you considered  
The long nights  
And endless days.

I don't think you considered  
Being separated  
And being torn apart.

I don't think you considered  
Anything at all  
Beyond how much you loved him.

And boy,  
You sure as hell did not consider  
Life without him.


	5. Empty Grave

It's empty.  
I know it is.  
It's just a stone  
Atop hollow ground.  
You're in my heart,  
Making my chest heavy  
And pressing on my lungs  
So I can't move  
And can hardly breathe.  
Your name is on the stone  
But your body is not below it.  
You're lost in the mountains,  
Frozen in time,  
Staring up at the sky blankly,  
As if you're still waiting for me to  
Save you.  
As if I haven't failed to  
Save you  
So many times before.


	6. Dragon Smoke

He likes to think  
The glowing cigarette  
Carelessly held between your teeth  
Is something akin to dragon's breath  
And the smoke trailing away  
That curls around your head  
Is something akin to an angel's halo  
Because he has never seen you smoke before  
And war is absolute hell  
And you have changed so much  
That if he did not dilute reality  
Through at least three layers of imagination,  
He would lose his grasp on the world  
And kill himself.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr @frobster !


End file.
